


I Carried a Watermelon

by MaxBetta



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Dirty Dancing (1987), Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dirty Dancing AU, F/M, dancer!Sandor, sansan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-04 20:40:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15155192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxBetta/pseuds/MaxBetta
Summary: This idea came to me in a dream. This is shameless self-indulgence. SHAMELESS. It is entirely without shame. Having said that, I hope you get a kick out of it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me in a dream. This is shameless self-indulgence. SHAMELESS. It is entirely without shame. Having said that, I hope you get a kick out of it.

The warm, humid day was starting to finally cool off a bit. Sansa was walking down the gravel pathway toward her family’s cabin. This was the first year they had ever stayed at a resort together. The Starks were usually too practical for a real vacation, but this year was different. They were staying at an enormous luxury resort owned by none other than Mr. Petyr Baelish, a lifelong friend of her mother’s. Sansa found Petyr himself to be quite creepy, but his resort was lovely. There were acres and acres of lush green lawns, winding nature paths that went through forests of towering trees, and multiple activities to take part in every hour of every day. Sansa had just left one of the activities, in fact. She had attended a knitting class. She was the youngest person there, but nobody would have noticed at first glance. She was dressed conservatively for an 18 year old enjoying her Summer vacation. Her red hair was twisted up into a neat bun that was secured with bobby pins. She wore a knee length sundress and a sensible cardigan that her mother insisted on, because apparently the straps of her dress showed too much shoulder. Most of the other girls her age had trouble walking the pathways due to their heels sinking into the gravel and dirt, but not Sansa. She wore a plain pair of white sneakers. They were functional, but not at all fashionable.

 

She was just approaching one of the sets of outdoor steps that led to another path when she bumped into a thin man carrying three watermelons.

 

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!  I didn’t see you there.”

 

“It’s okay, it’s fine. I couldn’t see you, either.”

 

Sansa saw the watermelons that were now on the grass. “Those are huge! You can’t possibly carry them by yourself. Can I help you? My name is Sansa, by the way.”

 

“I’m Bronn. And, uh, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come with me.” He struggled, trying to pick all three melons up again.

 

“Why not?”

 

“Well, the place I’m going, it’s kind of a secret. No guests allowed.”

 

“Oh, I see.” She tried to hide her disappointment, but failed miserably.

 

“But...if you tell me that you won’t say a word to anyone, I suppose I’d have no choice but to believe you.”

 

He gave her a wink and she finally caught on. “Oh, yes. Oh, I’m great at keeping secrets. I’ll keep my mouth shut. Promise.”

 

Bronn smiled and handed her one of the giant watermelons, and she followed him down several unfamiliar paths until they were just outside of an old barn. Sansa could tell from the glow between the doors that there was lighting inside, and the ground pounded under her feet from the bass of the music they that was blaring. His hands full, Bronn backed into the doors, opening them with his rump. The sound of the music intensified, and Sansa’s mouth was agape with what she saw before her. There were at least a dozen couples, all grinding suggestively on one another. Hips gyrating, hands roaming. She had never seen anything like it. She had never even seen an R-rated movie!  She immediately felt out of place, as if she were seeing something that she shouldn't, so she just did her best to avoid looking at her surroundings and kept her focus on where Bronn was going. After what seemed like an eternity, they finally reached a table in the back of the room and set the melons down. Bronn noticed immediately that Sansa’s eyes were wide with overstimulation.

 

“It’s a staff party. We do these every so often. We dance, and drink, and dance some more. We have to do it here in the barn because the higher up folk don’t want any of the paying customers to see us riffraff.” He glanced at Sansa again and noticed that she still appeared to be in shock. “I can walk you back to where you’re staying if this is making you uncomfortable.”

 Sansa finally snapped out of her daze. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m fine.” Her eyes seemed to be focusing on one couple in particular. “Who are they?” She gestured toward the couple with a nod.

 

“That’s Sandor and Marge.”

 

“The way they’re dancing...are they married?”

 

“Gods no, they’re not even together. They’re just dance partners.”

 

Sansa couldn’t stop staring at them. Margaery wore a pair of red stiletto heels that had to have been at least six inches. She had on a black leather mini skirt and a barely there white camisole with spaghetti straps. The way she was writhing all over the man in front of her...it was so filthy, and yet she couldn’t take her eyes off of them...she especially couldn’t take her eyes off of _him_. He towered over his partner, and his bulk would have blocked her completely from view if he were standing in front of her. He wore a pair of jeans that showed off his muscular thighs and ample bottom. His shirt was a tight white V-neck that was at least halfway soaked with sweat. He had long black hair that partially covered a pair of intense grey eyes. A few sweat soaked strands clung to the side of his face that was covered in scars from his temple down to his jaw. She should have been terrified, and she was, but for different reasons. He was more than just a man, he was a presence. She realized she had been staring when the song ended and Sandor and Marge started walking toward where she and Bronn were standing. She could tell that he was not happy about her being there.

 

“What’s she doing here?”

 

Bronn managed to stutter out a quick reply. “Shhh...she’s with me.”

 

Sandor, Bronn and Marge were all three looking at Sansa now, as if waiting for her to explain herself. She needed to say something. Anything.

 

“I carried a watermelon.” Sansa blushed with embarrassment.

 

Sandor was thinking over her reply when a new song began. Marge was whisked away by another employee and the two of them started dancing with each other. Bronn took off toward the table of food. Sandor looked over at Sansa with a wicked grin and made a come hither motion with his index finger. She froze, then looked behind her. There was nobody else back there, he was gesturing for her. Growing more impatient by the second, Sandor finally grabbed her by the hand and pulled her into the dance area behind him.

 

Margaery appeared close to them, and suddenly Sansa’s shoulders felt exposed. “You won’t be needing this:” Margaery had removed the cardigan and tossed it aside. It was being trampled on, but that was the least of Sansa’s worries. Within seconds, Sandor was connected to her at the groin. In a blur, his hips were swiveling, pushing into hers. Her face flushed and she looked down to avoid eye contact. He grasped her chin and lifted it upward.

 

“Right here, look at me.”

 

She did as he asked, and slowly felt herself begin to let go. He put his hands on her hips, pulling her in even closer. She could feel the heat of his body against hers. His face was in the crook of her neck, then at one point he dipped her backward and she could feel his hot breath on her bosom. Her head was swaying from side to side along with the beat of the music, and one by one her bobby pins fell out, allowing her hair to fall into loose waves that moved with her as she danced. She continued to move with him, losing herself to the music, losing herself to him...and all too quickly, the song was over. She was standing in the middle of the crowd of dancers by herself. She noticed that Sandor and Marge were talking with Bronn off to the side of the room. She made her way over, but once she was there, they stopped talking. She had heard enough as she was approaching them, though. Margaery needed to get her hands on moontea.

 

“I can help.”

 

Sandor was agitated. “Stop chirping like a little bird. This isn’t some problem that can be solved in a song, this is real life.”

 

Sansa felt emboldened for the first time in her life. “If you’d be quiet I can explain. I know a maester who is staying here, he’s a friend of my family. If I ask him for moontea, he will give it to me. I’ll just say it’s for someone else and that I can’t tell him who.”

 

Sandor glared at Marge and Bronn who looked like they were actually considering Sansa’s offer. He stormed off in frustration.

 

“Marge, I know we’ve just met, but I’d be happy to do it for you. I can have it for you tomorrow night.” Sansa turned on her heels and left, beginning the long walk back to her family’s cabin. She felt different. Somehow, she felt like less of a girl and more like a woman. If only she could get through to the man who made her feel that way.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Sansa visited the cabin of her family’s maester. She explained that she needed moontea, but that she couldn’t tell him who it was for, only that it was a true emergency. After a few moments of hesitation, he handed her a plastic bag. “Steep it in boiling hot water for five minutes, then drink it all within one hour.”

 

Sansa went straight from the maester’s cabin to the employee bungalows and knocked on Margaery’s door. When the door opened, she handed her the bag and gave her the instructions. Margaery was in shock.

 

“Sansa...I can’t believe you did this for me. Thank you.” She hugged her tight, and then they worked out a plan. Marge would continue work as usual, but she would drink the tea just before the weekend. Sansa would take her place for one dance at a nearby hotel, and then Marge would be back to her old self by the following week. Both clear on what needed to be done, Sansa left to attend another class.

 

In the days that followed, Sansa spent almost all of her time with Sandor practicing for their routine at the hotel. It was a mess, at first. She would trip, and stumble, forgetting steps, forgetting where to be and at what point in the song to be there. But, with an exercise in patience on Sandor’s part, and her determination to not let her new friends down, Sansa got the hang of it. Well, she got the hang of most of it. Lifts were scary to her. She just couldn’t imagine trusting someone to catch her like that, and it would require a great deal of balance on her part. So, as the weekend came closer, they practiced the lift over and over. The first time they got it right, Sandor smiled, a real, actual smile. She had never seen him do that before. It took a moment before she realized that he was smiling _at her_. She suddenly could feel every beat of her heart in her chest, every breath her lungs took in, and she smiled back. She was going to miss their time together when this was all over.

 

The hotel performance went as planned, except Sansa chickened out at the last second when it was time to do the lift. Instead, she improvised a couple of moves to fill up the space in the routine that the lift would have taken up. She and Sandor laughed about it afterward on the ride back to the resort. He insisted on walking her back to her cabin after they got there. It was a long walk, which gave them more time to laugh and talk together. She had noticed a difference in the way he looked at her lately. He was noticing things about her, about her body, and the idea of him thinking of her in that way made her blush, but it also made her want to know more. When they came to the end of their walk, Sandor thanked her for helping Marge, and for being his partner at the hotel. He leaned in and gave her a hug. His strong arms made her feel so safe and secure when they were wrapped around her. She wouldn’t fear anything or anyone as long as she was in his presence. They said goodnight and went their separate ways.

 

Late Sunday afternoon, Sansa was taking a long walk throughout the resort grounds when Bronn came running up to her.

 

“Sansa, I’ve been looking all over for you.” He grabbed her by the arm and asked her to follow him. They went to Marge’s bungalow. She was fevered, barely conscious, and sweating all over in her bed. The maester, and her father, were already there when she arrived. Apparently Marge had steeped the tea extra long in the hopes of ensuring its effectiveness, and as a result she had become violently ill. The maester took care of her, giving her medications and fluids, and then left, after assuring everyone that she would recover nicely. Sansa’s father grabbed Sansa by the arm and practically dragged her out the front door.

 

“What have you done? I give you the smallest amount of freedom and this is what you do with it?  You associate with whores and men who give them bastards?”

 

Sansa felt sudden shame. Her father was a reasonable man, but she feared him when he was angry. She was attempting to come up with an answer when she saw Sandor approaching the bungalow, no doubt to check on Marge. They had been lifelong friends, after all. He gave her a friendly hello and a wink and stepped inside.

 

Her father stiffened at the familiarity between them. “You are not to spend time with these people anymore, do you understand me?  Not her, not him, not any of them. I forbid it. We’re going back to our cabin. I won’t tell your mother about this, I doubt she’d survive the news.”

 

Sansa, ever the good girl, followed her father back to their rental. She immediately went into her room, threw herself onto her bed, and sobbed herself to sleep. She had been feeling so much like a woman over the past week, and now she felt like a little girl all over again. It couldn’t end this way. _They_ couldn’t end this way. No, she wouldn’t let that happen.

 

Late that night, when she was sure everyone else in the cabin was asleep, Sansa snuck outside and headed for Sandor’s bungalow. She avoided the main paths on the off chance that she would encounter anyone. When she arrived at his place and he opened the door, wearing a pair of jeans and no shirt, there was no hiding the surprise on his face.

 

“Can I come in?”

 

He hesitated for a second. “Yeah...sure.”

 

Sansa stepped inside and turned to face him after he shut the door. She looked him up and down and saw everything she could ever want in a man, and everything that she wasn’t willing to lose. She didn't know how he felt about her, though. She had noticed him checking out her body a few times, and they would have conversations about things, and laugh about things, but he had never given her an unmistakable sign that he wanted her. She decided in that moment that she wanted him enough that she was willing to risk the rejection.

 

“Will you dance with me?”

 

“What, here? Now?”

 

“Here. Now.”

 

Sandor nodded and crossed the room to turn on the music. He then returned to her, putting his arms around her waist, and she wrapped hers around his neck. They swayed back and forth for a few seconds before Sansa moved herself even closer to him. In a moment of courage, she pulled him down and guided his lips to hers. He held back for a few seconds, but then the evidence of his desire for her became clear. He was all over her. Her face, her neck, his hands roamed every inch of her body, and she wanted more. She took the initiative again, taking him by the hand and leading him to his bed. There was no question of what she wanted from him, and they gave themselves to each other that night.

 

Very early the next morning, shortly before dawn, Sansa snuck back into her parents cabin. A couple of hours later, they went to breakfast as a family. Sansa barely had any appetite. She’d just had the most incredible night of her life with the man she now realized she loved, and now, she didn’t know if she would ever see him again. She nodded politely whenever her mother or her sister tried to engage her in conversation, but she was just going through the motions until the meal was over and she could be alone to cry or think of a solution, or both.

 

Sandor checked in at the main office to pick up his lesson schedule for the day. He was about to leave when the manager stopped him. The conversation ended almost as quickly as it started. The resort had decided to offer Sandor a contract for the following year, but at half the pay he was used to. Sandor threatened to quit, something that the manager wasn’t prepared for.

 

“But you can’t quit!  What about the dance lessons? What about the upcoming talent show? What will I tell Mr. Baelish?”

 

Sandor balled his fists, but he managed to keep them at his sides. “Fuck the lessons. Fuck the show. And Fuck Baelish!” He walked out the door at a furious pace. He returned to his bungalow to find Sansa already there waiting for him.

 

“I quit.”

 

“Quit? Why? What happened?”

 

“They offered me a job next year, but for half as much as what I’m making now. It was an insult, Sansa. They did it just because they view me as trash, they think they can do whatever they want.” He started bunching up his clothing and stuffing it into a suitcase.

 

“Wait! You can’t leave. Please, Sandor. Please don’t leave. I love you!”

 

He stopped what he was doing to address her. “You can’t love me. You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m lower than a dog. I’m unlovable.” He grabbed what little he had packed and threw it into the bed of his truck. And just like that, he was gone. He was the first man she had ever loved, the first man she had ever slept with, and now all that was left of him was a cloud of dust from when the tires of his truck had spun on the dirt road.

 

The remainder of the week went by excruciatingly slow for Sansa. She barely ate, didn’t take part in any activities, and hardly spoke to anyone. She wanted to stay in the night of the talent show, their last night at the resort before they would leave for home. Unfortunately her sister was performing, and her parents let her know that staying in the cabin was not an option. So, she went. She was miserable. Whenever a band would play, they encouraged the audience to get up and dance, but Sansa remained in her seat.

 

Sandor had tried to stay away, to tell himself that he was a fool for believing that a woman could love him, but the more he thought about it, the more he warmed to the idea. She didn’t tell him that she loved him as a response to him, she had said it on her own. And the truth was, he loved her, too. It occurred to him that he hadn’t told her, but that she deserved to know, even if they could never be together.  It was toward the end of the talent show when he had made it to the auditorium and let himself through the double doors. He marched in and surveyed the room for the beautiful red hair he adored so much. There was a large crowd dancing in the center of the room, but she didn’t seem to be there. He looked along the side wall when he finally found her, sitting in the corner. The empty chairs that surrounded her made it appear as if she were behind bars. He approached her, but just as he reached the table, her father stepped between the two of them.

 

“What in seven hells do you think you’re doing here?”

 

Without hesitation, he answered. “Nobody puts the little bird in a cage.” He extended a hand to Sansa and pulled her after him as he made his way up to the stage.

 

“Sansa, there’s something I need to tell you.” He held her close, locking eyes with her. “I love you. I didn’t think I could love anyone, and I especially didn’t think that anybody could love me. I don’t know how we could ever be together, but I wanted to come here tonight to tell you that, and to ask you if we could have one last dance.”

 

Sansa was in tears. She thought he loved her, but actually hearing him say it was more than she ever could have dreamed.of. “Yes. I’ll dance with you.”

 

Sandor had made sure Bronn was backstage to change the music when he gave him the cue. The song began, and they danced together, taking care to memorize the feel of one another in case this would be the last time they would be together. Toward the end of the song, Sandor encouraged Sansa to try a lift again, and they were successful. She realized that not only did she love him, but she trusted him and felt safe with him. When the song was over, they embraced each other for a lingering kiss.

 

Ned was about to walk up onto the stage to rescue his daughter when Marge stopped him.

 

“Mr. Stark, I never got the chance to thank you properly. I appreciate everything that you did to help me with the Petyr situation.”

 

“Petyr situation?”

 

“Yes...the pregnancy. The moontea. Bronn ran to your cabin to get Sansa to call for the maester, but you sent for him because she wasn’t there at the time. Surely you remember. You saved my life that day.”

 

Ned swallowed hard. He had assumed that Sandor had been the one to get her pregnant. He was a man of honor, so he knew what he had to do. When Sansa and Sandor came down from the stage to mingle with the crowd, Ned came up behind Sandor and tapped him on the shoulder.

 

“I owe you an apology. Marge...I thought it was you.”

 

Sandor nodded, but didn’t say anything.

 

“I was wrong. I’m sorry.” He extended a hand, and Sandor accepted. They shook, and Ned congratulated him and Sansa on their dance together. It was looking at her in that moment that Ned realized she was no longer the little girl he had raised, she had grown into a beautiful young woman. He walked back to the table where his family had been sitting earlier. He glanced around the room and saw that all of his children were happy and smiling. Perhaps family vacations weren't such a bad idea after all.  One thing was for certain, this had been a Summer that neither he or Sansa would ever forget.


End file.
